Touch Me
by MellowInsomniac
Summary: After fifteen years of abstinance, Gaara learns the meaning of desire. And it consumes him. Gaa/Naru.
1. Sensation

**Bonjour, mon petites.**

**It's Mellow.**

**title: Touch Me**

**pairing: GaaNaru**

**rating: M for language and sexual content**

|"Talking"|'Thinking'|_'Flashback'|_

**a/n: It's been quite a while since I've been able to write anything. Basically, my life fell apart 4 months ago. So much so that I didn't think that I would be able to recover. But, in light of recent events, someone that helped me through the last few months told me that I should start doing the things that I love again, so I won't think about how much...well, ickiness is in my life right now. She was right, I feel so much better when I immerse myself in my stories and my ideas. It's pretty soothing. As soothing as writing pervy fanfactions can get ;)**

**So I hope you all enjoy. Feel free to comment or pm me with requests.**

** _Chapter 1;Sensation_**

* * *

Sabaku no Gaara rose, almost mechanically from the luxurious mass that was his bed.

Sleep, even after several months of solidarity from the demon Tanuki - Shukaku - continued to elude him. The anxiety that the process of sleep instilled in him had yet to pass, despite several tests telling him otherwise, his long-standing bane of insomnia was ever present. No natural, nor artificial remedy could cure him of it. As Temari suggested: "all things heal in time".

Sighing in frustration of another night lost, Gaara turned an exhausted pale visage toward the open windows across the room. Eyes to the horizon, he observed as the weight of the sun struggled above endless hills of sand. A wave of foreign emotion washed over his consciousness as warmth coated the inside of his chest, thick like the honey harvested from desert flowers in the Spring. This same feeling came every morning while watching the landscape of a Suna sunrise.

Temari had told him a few days ago that it was pride. Pride in his village and himself for keeping it so serene. It was different than what he'd learned to distinguish as happiness, nor did it align with any of the other emotions he'd added to his repertoire over the past 3 years. What he did find, was that this emotion was was just as complex, and just as confusing, as all the others.

Pale pools of green slid closed slowly, as he shifted in the weight of the duvet atop his mattress. The heavy fabric was cool on his bare pale skin, causing small, rigid bumps to rise to the surface of the skin of his thighs. Simultaneously, a rush of dry heat from the gaping windows played across the expanse of his torso, resulting in the pebbling of twin patches of pink on his chest. The mix of temperatures and sensations caused the young redhead to inhale rapidly, feeling the sudden change in his heartbeat. Fists gripped at the rigid edge of the ornately designed comforter as his brow creased.

Every feeling left the overly sensitive Kazekage vulnerable.

The lack of his demon allowed the freedom to not only feel things emotionally, but physically as a result of the lack of instantaneous and involuntary shielding from the sand.

Every small touch was a distraction. The redhead had only experienced a handful of sensations and emotions in his fifteen years of life, and most of those were quite recently recognized. He was like a child, navigating the ways of his body and heart with caution…

And he found that he was very cautious of his current sensation.

Unlike like his reaction to the sunrise, his reactions to these sensations...these feelings of being touched, consumed him. It would occur at any time of the day or during any situation. In his bed, like this morning, if the fabric brushed his skin in a specific way. If his baths were a specific temperature. If he ate a particular food, or smelled a particular smell. Gaara felt his heart beat erratically in his chest and his breath shorten in an instant. Warmth would engulf his entire body. Sometimes, the muscles in his legs would not allow him to stand.

Despite all of this, the feeling wasn't unwelcome. Truth be told, he enjoyed it. Enjoyed how it took over his body and mulled his thoughts. Enjoyed how it made him forget his surroundings and compose himself. Enjoyed how it made him...excited.

Was that normal?

It occurred so often, he was beginning to think there was something amiss. Being no fool, Gaara knew that all of these reactions to stimuli were normal. He knew he shouldn't be embarrassed of these , for some reason, he could not bring himself to discuss this feeling, as he had with all the others, with his elder sister Temari. When he thought of doing this, his face grew hot and he could feel little nervous tremors in his abdomen.

Embarrassment, as it was called.

Perhaps he should try with Kankuro...though that prospect seemed more embarrassing than the first.

The mental conundrum of emotions was so flippant and contradictory that Gaara often found himself lost in a maze that ultimately ended in a headache or more confusion.

In short, humanity was overwhelming to him.

A shaky exhale left him feeling strange, pinpricks of that foreign feeling spreading throughout his body, to the tips of his toes. His face grew hot, flame igniting him like he had never felt before. His grip on the sheets grew tighter after feeling a dense bead of sweat drop down to rest in the hollow of his collarbone. And when he spoke, his voice came out little more than a husky whisper.

"What _is_ this?"

The young Kage furrowed his brow further as a lithe pale hand rose to meet the flesh of chapped, dry lips. They were parted slightly to accommodate the silent huffs of his breathing. He shuddered lightly, pressing the rough pad of his thumb against the sensitive orifice. That slight pressure had the remnants of his sand armor dancing uncontrollably around his stiff frame. In passing, Gaara marveled at the reaction of the sand. It usually didn't respond to emotions so violently. It was all so fascinating.

And _so good_.

Consumed by sensation, Gaara was oblivious to the dozens of knocks and calls to his door over the past few minutes. His eyes opened abruptly, shaken from his thoughts at a particularly loud bang on the wood of his door. The thing was threatening to break from it hinges at the force of it all. Sighing at his already unhealthy amount of frustration for the day, Gaara flicked his index finger toward the door. The sand from his gourd, located in a protective case by his closet, compelled by the Kazekage's will broke free from its confines, spilling from the deliberate cracks. The tanned mass slid swiftly across the stone floor and wrapped skillfully around the door handle, waiting for the cue to open the thing.

Gaara's hand twitched and he exhaled sharply once more as some of the roguish sand moved to surround his chest. The rough texture of the tawny grain was almost too much for his hyperactive flesh as he could feel every particle touch him in a way he was not familiar. The mass thickened then, lightly caressing the length of his arms. Heat and pressure continued to build inside him, manifesting in his throat. Darkened lids squeezed tighter as he fought to keep the pressure inside of him, causing his stomach to churn, almost like nausea. He body was coaxing him to release the accumulation housed in his throat, almost like retching.

A few more loud wraps on his door brought his attention back to a semblance of reality and he decided that he did indeed need to confide in Kankuro about this. The redhead exhaled several shaky breaths, eventually overcoming the sensation his stomach had created. He could slowly feel his composure return and willed the sand abandon the assault on his senses and fall to his sides. With one final flick of his finger, the obedient stream of sand pulled on the handle of his door, yielding to the early morning intruders.

Gaara kept his face trained forward, cautious of what the past few minutes left him looking like. Without opening his eyes, he muttered for his advisors to enter the room.

Temari and Kankuro stepped cautiously into Gaara's bedchamber. He was in his bed, sitting up stiffly, eyes closed. Temari could only see his profile in the vast bedchamber, dimly lit by natural morning light. His brows were furrowed and his mouth seemed to be drawn up in a scowl. Despite his lack of sleep, Gaara was always seemingly pleasant in the morning, so this odd behavior spiked anxiety in her.

Perhaps he had a headache, because he didn't seem to be moving.

Breathing, yes.

Moving, no.

"Gaara?"

"Hm?" Temari tensed at her brother's weak response. There seemed to be something odd about his voice as well.

"Are you alright?" she had reached the raised platform on which Gaara's bed was perched, so she could see the in tension not only in his face, but his whole body. He was gripping the edge of his comforter with what seemed like desperation. Upon quick observation, she saw obscure patches of sand mixed into the sheets of the bed. Raising her brows in curiosity, the blonde haired kunoichi came to the conclusion that something was indeed up with her little brother.

"Gaara?" she pushed, hoping he would placate her silent request to tell her what was wrong, "Are you alright?"

He shook his head in agreement. She sighed in disbelief.

"Are you sure?"

He shook his head once more.

Casting a look of pure disbelief toward the statuesque Kazekage, Temari decided that it'd be best to fulfil her original intent in disturbing her brother so early.

"Well, then. Sorry to make a fuss but," she cleared her throat, worried that he wasn't listening, "today is the start of the official negotiations for the alliance with Konohagakure. Lady Tsunade and her advisors should be here in just a few hours."

He sat there for a few moments, as still as stone.

"I remember." he acknowledged her with such passivity. Temari's eyes widened at the sound of her little brother's voice. It seemed to have dropped a few octaves over night, It was very coarse and rough, like that of a man, not a teenage boy. Trying to decipher this drastic change in Gaara, Temari continued,

"Well...um...I was just checking to see if you were awake and preparing. The attendants have ran a cool bath with jasmine and mint to quell the dry heat of the morning. There is also the task of choosing your diplomatic attire for the day. I told Kankuro to come get you earlier but he went to the kitchen instead." she noted this with blazing contempt, eyes darting to her other little brother.

Said male stiffened under the penetrating gaze of his sister. He was certain she was going to punch the hell out of him again and was pleasantly surprised when he felt no immediate physical pain. Instead, he flushed in embarrassment and held his palms up in defeat.

"Sorry, sorry. My stomach distracted me."

"No time for distractions, baka! You-"

"Temari," Gaara interrupted their banter with his authoritative tone, causing the two to stiffen, "Please inform the house staff of our guests' arrival and make sure the appropriate arrangements are made. Also, tell the kitchen staff to prepare a traditional Suna breakfast for our guests as a welcoming."

Temari jolted at the command, marveling at how her little brother could sound so much like a hardened leader at his age. His sudden maturity of voice contributed to the slight menace of the command and caused her blood to boil in an unsettling manner. There had to be something wrong with him. This was not at all like the Gaara she usually fetched in the morning.

He had become so sweet of late, and she enjoyed his company more than she ever thought she could. They walked together, every day as he surveyed the village. She consoled him when he cried and laughed with him when he was joyful. Recently, she began sharing stories of their mother as her little monster clung to every word with a melancholy grin. Such an immaculate change. And she realized he was a really big and confused kid on the inside and she'd been helping him sort it all out.

But, despite all that he remained the the Kazekage, and could change instantaneously to the figure of hope for all of Sunagakure. This was a fact that she continued to overlook. And she was his subordinate and this sudden string of realizations had her bow slightly and responding with as much respect she could muster.

"Hai, Kazekage-sama. Kankuro, you take the house staff, I don't want you getting "lost" in the kitchen again." Temari said with edge directed to the puppeteer. He laughed that stupid laugh again and placed a hand lethargically behind his head. It was all she could do not to punch his lights out.

The two were turning to leave when Gaara's uncharacteristic plea reached them.

"No, Kankuro...I-I need for you to stay," his voice was free of authority now, replaced with a slight trembling.

Temari turned to see him, facing them now, pale eyes deep with emotion. His cheeks were flushed and delicate in the soft light. She could see the desperation in his face and knew exactly what was wrong with Gaara. Their little brother asking for help. Confused...no...plagued about what he was feeling...something new and from the looks of it, taxing on the young leader. Temari felt a light smile form on her face, intending to enter "understanding-sister mode" before she paused.

He called for Kankuro.

Why Kankuro? The scatterbrained teen had no idea about emotions. No idea how to explain and console. He'd likely confused Gaara further in the attempt to help him. She began to protest at his request to lean on Kankuro, but before she began, Gaara silenced her with his eyes, narrowed with a thick air of seriousness.

"I need to talk to _him_ about...something."

Gaara was not surprised to see the visible pang in Termari's heart and the surprise on Kankuro's face at his request. He knew when he had made the decision and clutched to the resolve of seeking help from his brother, that he was doing something unprecedented. He never went to his brother with questions about anything. Kankuro was more for showing him inappropriate pictures and detailing his romantic escapades while the two played card games or ate meals. "Brother time" as the brunette would call it. A time in which they never spoke of Gaara internal struggle with his senses. He always went to Temari for anything deeper than surface level. He knew that this transgression would be viewed as somewhat of a betrayal on her part. Gaara hated to upset his onee-san but he could not discuss this matter with her, no matter how much it hurt her.

For this, he needed Kankuro.

Said male turned on his heel, making his way back into Gaara's bedchamber. He had to admit that this situation was bizarre as he was usually the one leaving the room when such instances occurred. But, when Gaara called, it was his duty, and his pleasure to help his little brother. He placed a reassuring hand on his older sister's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Temari. I got this one." she cracked a sad smile and nodded to him before looking back at Gaara. The weak "I leave him to you" she whispered made his heart sink a little. But there was a reason Gaara hadn't requested her, and they both knew this.

Gaara looked at Temari's hurt expression as to tell her that she was dismissed. She opened and closed her mouth twice before quickly turning and walking out of the room. It was indeed going to be a long day. He'd have to make it up to her later. But the matter at hand needed his, and his ecchi brother's attention.


	2. Conversation

_**a/n: I think that first chapter turned out well. Not sure. But when I read it to my friend, she said it "left her in wanton anticipation of what Gaara-kun would discover about his magnificent body". I assume that's praise.**_

_**haha.**_

_**Any who, enjoy chapter two lovlies. **_

_**Chapter 2; Conversation**_

* * *

"Kankuro…" Gaara started, dropping his head to look at his hands fumbling in the duvet. He felt that heat come back to his face, this time, denoting his embarrassment. He wanted to be blunt with his feeling, just as he normally was with Temari. He willed himself to look at his brother and express his concern. However, an unknown force drove him to keep his head down and to keep fidgeting.

After several minutes of silence, Kankuro sat, perplexed, on the edge of Gaara's bed. Said male had his head down, cheeks stained, and hands fumbling. Kankuro knew that his brother was embarrassed to talk to him but the idea of it made him chuckle. His stoic little brother, _Sabaku no Gaara_, was nervous to talk to him. A few years ago, a simple misstep in conversation with Gaara might have gotten him killed. Now, the kid was asking for advice like it was second nature to him.

The irony of it all.

"Don't worry, Gaara. You can tell me anything," he gave Gaara a reassuring smile as the boy's head snapped up to look for the truth in those words. The green of his bother's eyes always made Kankuro a bit uneasy. It was as if you were to stare in them too long, you might lose your soul. But this morning, there was reservation in those eerie green orbs. And the cat-eared nin felt the need to ease his brother's troubles. He smiled again, revealing his teeth, as to encourage his brother to trust him.

This time, it was a few seconds. He felt his brother shift his legs under the sheets of his bed and clear his throat in preparation to talk. After searching for his confidence and finding it again, Gaara nodded and began explaining.

"I've had a new type of feeling. It's unlike anything I've felt before, so overwhelming and strong. I can't shake the idea that it's weird. Strange for me to have this feeling. I can't- " he trailed off, losing himself in the many ways he could describe it., "Can't understand it at all. I was hoping that you could give me some insight on this matter."

Kankuro rose his hand to scratch the top of his brunette mop

"Well, isn't that more big sis' area? I'm no good with emotions and such."

"No!. Gaara whispered with exasperation, "I would talk to her about it but...for some reason, I can't. Every time I think of discussing it with her I get embarrassed and some...twisted force keeps me from divulging my feelings to her." his nose crinkled in frustration, looking into Kankuro's peaceful brown eyes. "In addition, this feeling is much more..._physical_ than emotional."

The confession was news to Kankuro, but he kept it to himself. What could be so embarrassing that he couldn't talk to Temari about it? To his knowledge, everything that Gaara had epxperienced of late had been internal and emotional, not external and physical. Perphas he was the better one to deal with this mess. Kankuro gave an inner shrug and figured he'd find out soon enough. Might as well try to help in the best way he knew how. Physicality was his forte, after all.

"Physical, you say? Well, I think I'll be able to help with that. Spill it, little bro'."

"Well...lately I've been having these sensations in my body when I touch things. Like the sheets, or how my clothes brush my skin, or how something smells. It causes my breath to shorten, my pulse to quicken, my mind to cloud. And I would think it was something that was normal if it didn't occur at all times of the day. It's uncontrollable..." Gaara said in a rush, feeling his hairless brow cringe in frustration. He then detailed the events of the morning to his brother as stubble as he knew how. After a few minutes, the flush on his brother's cheeks told him that he needed to work on his verbal subtly.

Kankuro's eyes widened with realization at his little brother explained his predicament. Just because his little brother was the Monster of the Desert didn't mean he was immune to puberty. The same feeling had plagued him when he was fifteen too. And probably every other fifteen year old boy in existence. He could have done without the tale of the groping sand and shaky breaths, but still, he understood.

_Gaara was pubescent and horny and didn't know it._

He laughed a genuine laugh, earning an irritated glare from his brother. After a few minutes of cracking up, Kankuro yielded and decided to spare his little brother of his fictitious misery.

"Gaara," he began, trying to compose himself, "...there isn't anything abnormal about you having these reactions. You're pubescent as a fifteen year old boy. I'm sure you're familiar with-thanks to the Academy and well...me-the act of sex," the redhead nodded with a grim expression at his brother's question, recollecting Kankuro's tales of _"ass-snatching"_. Kankuro felt his cheeks burn and brushed it off with a nervous chuckle in order to continue, "Anyway...well, usually to feel the urge to engage in sexual activity, one has to become aroused in a sexual way."

Aroused.

So that's what this was? Arousal..._sexual_ arousal?

He knew all about the physiology of men and women and their mating techniques from his studies. Males and females became aroused, releasing pheromones that entice their partner to intercourse. If he decided to wander around the village a night when he couldn't sleep, he'd often hear the...plesantries that came with human sexual activities. Although he'd always thought the practice beyond him. Especially with the likes of a woman. Gaara'd always had an aversion to fragility.

Kankuro was explaining wildly using hand gestures and exaggerated examples when Gaara interrupted him.

"Sexually aroused? By the sensation of fabric and water on my skin? Is such a thing possible? Aren't those sensations reserved for another human being?"

"Yes, of course. To both points. Listen up!" Kankuro lifted his finger in a matter-of-fact kind of way and continued.

"It's perfectly natural for you to react to stimuli that is not sentient. Everybody has different points of sensitivity on their body and because you've never experienced true physical contact with most _anything_, you are hypersensitive to _everything_. That, and the fact that you're a fifteen year old boy. Puberty does that to you. Your hormones are out of control and even the smallest touch can send you into a fit of arousal." he concluded in that same tone.

Gaara nodded in agreement as his brother offered him further clarity. That was exactly what was happening to him. He was aroused by the way things felt on his skin. He enjoyed being...caressed. Being touched. The thought brought the now familiar feelings of heat back to the surface of his skin.

Kankuro continued. "You'll also eventually have these feeling toward another person, or even several other people. From touching or even looking at them depending on your level of attraction to them." Gaara's brows furrowed at that.

He could feel those same sensations from touching another person?

From simply_ looking_ at them?

"Have you ever experienced those sensations when thinking about another person, bro'?"

Had he ever? Of that, he was highly doubtful. There were few things in life Gaara found attractive, and other people were not one of them.

Still, the redheaded Kage traced through the faces in his repertoire, trying to connect these feelings with a physical being. Gaara prided himself in being able to remember every face, name, and frame that he came across. It helped immensely with diplomatic relations but unfortunately not in this situation. No face that he remembered off of the top of his head made that rush of sensation flow back to him. Feeling oddly disappointed, Gaara looked at his brother with a frown.

"No. I have not.",came his all but silent reply. He wanted some to touch him...and he wanted to touch someone else. He could only imagine the sensations that flesh on flesh may incite in him. For some reason, it both terrified and thrilled him. It was a curious notion, but if simple touching could elicit these types of pleasant feelings in his body, he wanted to see how far it would go in himself.

But more so how far he could make it go in someone else. That's what really thrilled him.

Kankuro leaned back, lightly clasping his hand on his brother's shoulder to reassure him. Gaara noticed how warm his bother's large palm was on his shoulder. Looking down at it, he tried to focus on how it made him feel, what sensations he felt. It wasn't at all like those of arousal he's just discovered. It was more like a constant warmth. Comforting, reassuring.

"Gaara, it's alright. You'll develop in time. You can't expect everything that you've missed out on will happen all at once."

Gaara nodded once more. "Kankuro, when you touch me, I don't feel those same sensations. It's more like an idle warmth. What is that?"

His brother chuckled. "That's love, little brother. From me to you and you to me."

Gaara smiled at that. He'd thought that's what it was.

"And, it's good that you don't feel those feelings toward me, I'm your sibling. And I'm a guy."

In turn, Gaara frowned at that.

"Is it unnatural for men to desire men, or for women to desire women?"

Kankuro blushed at his careless comment, immediately working to correct it before Gaara's turbulent brian made something of it.

"Ah, no, little brother. It's not unnatural. Well, for me it is, because I like women. But don't think it's weird if the person you end up feeling attracted to is a man. Feeling is feeling, no matter who it is. Except for siblings!"

Gaara's head drooped on his pale shoulders in defeat. Feeling the heavy rise and fall of his brother's last breath, he could tell it was a sigh of defeat. Kankuro turned back to face the door, chuckling at his brother's innocence.

Gaara was so much more complex now that he had normal emotions. Easier to navigate, though.

He idly felt the shift of weight signifying his brothers attempt to get out of bed. Assuming that under all those sheets, Gaara slept bare like most Suna residents in the summer, he took that as his cue to leave. "Anything else, bro?" Stretching his arms above his head with a grunt, Kankuro stood on stiff legs and moved to the stream of artificial light that denoted the hallway. Hearing no answer from Gaara, he assumed that was a no on the further question thing. On his way out, however, Gaara called after him with one final question.

"How will I know that the person arouses me?"

Kankuro smirked, rounding the corner to look down the vast hallway. The fluorescent lights were evenly spaced down the hall and he could faintly make out frantic attendants rushing down the hall in order to fetch his brother. The Leaf nin must have arrived earlier than expected. Kankuro turned in the opposite direction and begin his silent journey to kitchen He shoved his hands into his pockets, and shook his head. Deciding it would be fun to see his mature little bother frustration by the machinations of the pubescent male body, he refrained from providing a lengthy response. Instead, he offered:

"Trust me, little brother, you'll just know."


	3. Manifestation

**a/n; Not much to say here. Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter as much as the first. It didn't have too many inapropros scenes in it so this one has more. Also, Gaara's personality changes to that of a frustrated/irritated Gaara vs. a curious/innocent Gaara. I figure he can't always be as sweet as he seems on the inside, now can he? No lemon bars yet though. Stay tuned for that.**

**now go on, read the dang thing!**

_**Chapter 3;Manifestation**_

* * *

_'"Trust me little brother, you'll just know'''_

A painfully aroused Gaara faintly recollected the casual words of his brother with contempt. He was enormously aware of what his sadistic brother had meant. What he had failed to inform him of in his bedchamber that morning. And he vowed he would make the brunette puppet master pay for it. His morning had gone from contemplative to irritated in just a few hours and it was _all_ Kankuro's damn fault.

If he'd know that _this_ was a part of being aroused, he would have desperately tried to keep his thoughts under wraps.

He shifted as gracefully as he could manage, knees pressing together in an attempt to quell the fire he felt in his groin. The damn thing seemed to have its own circulatory system, pounding in an asymmetric rhythm. It was also very prominent in his light diplomatic attire. Had they been in any other room instead of the Meeting hall, his predicament would have been very obvious. The circular desk that sat in a circle in the middle of the room was his savior while talks continued.

Getting up for lunch? Well, that'd be a challenge.

The fabric of his pants imprisoned his crotch further as he settled._ Damn them_. Damn all clothes and fabric to the deepest recesses of hell. He should have just worn the bulky Kage robes. This situation wouldn't have occurred if he had; he could have dealt with that type of heat. After all, the expensive garments were the start of all of this_ madness_ in the first place.

* * *

_'After rising from his bed, Gaara had swiftly slipped on his under attire before the slew of house attendants had entered his bedroom and summoned him, urgently, for his bath. He was then informed that the Leaf shinobi were an hour ahead of schedule and were bound to be at the gates in less than 30 minutes. Wracked with irritation, an emotion he was quite familiar with, he gave leeway to his dressing attendant to pick appropriate attire for him as he moved as quickly as he could down the hall to the bath. Every servant in the mansion had seemed to be in overdrive, and suddenly he was aware of how thoroughly he had wasted his morning. All these damn feelings were getting in the way of his duties._

_How he wished he could turn them off at times like this._

_Cursing, Gaara all but ran to the door that lead to the ridiculously large bath. He entered the bath chamber and imbued his libs with chakra, willing them to move at inhuman speed. A speed so fast that the sand that was his constant companion had no time to protest before he was in and out. The tanned mass was still trying to catch up to his brisk pace as he stood, in full glory, from the depths of the water. In the back of his mind, he mourned the loss of the herbal soak. Whatever the attendants had done that time made him feel...relaxed was it? The tension of the morning had melted away, if only for a moment. His eyes drooped dreamily as he imagined the cool flow of the water against already sensitive flesh. He would love to spend the day in that water, exploring his newly found understanding of arousal and his new craving for touch. _

_Gaara shook his head in abandon. Damn hormones. There was no time for that._

_And in the next moment he was back in his bed chamber, dressed in a mesh undershirt and tight white pants that stopped right below his knees. It was traditional, even in the hottest of weather, for Suna residents to layer clothing. Having gotten used to the wretched temperatures for his entire life, Gaara was usually immune to discomfort on the matter of heat. However, the sheer scorch of the morning was particularly blistering. It forbade him from dressing in the usual weight that were his simple Kage robes. He raised a pale arm to wipe the cool beads of sweat that had formed in the short time to survey the choices that his attendant had selected for him. _

_His attendant shifted uncomfortably by cause of the heat or himself, he could not tell. _

_Each of the sets of clothing were both causal and authoritative, so giving up on his weak sense of style, the teen pointed a long pale finger to the one in the middle. Snapping to action, the attendant scooped up the designated garments and got to work laying them out on the vast spread of his bed. The young woman moved with urgency and he vaguely wondered how satisfying to role of a servant in a noble house was. Despite being feared and shunned, he was of noble birth, so he never had to do much anything for himself in terms of basic needs. He wondered if doing such work was as satisfying as his job as Kazekage._

_A few minutes later, she had gathered all the remaining pieces of clothing in her small arms, bowing quickly before all but running out of the door to attend to what he assumed was an endless list of accommodations involving the visiting diplomats. Rooms to be prepared, servants to be assigned, meals to be planned. _

_'Konoha, eh?' he thought as he turned toward his bed, and the attire that he'd carelessly chosen._

_Gaara had inadvertently settled for baggy black pants that protruded slightly at the area where it would cling to his ankles. A uniquely designed burlap top accompanied the pants. It seemed like a sensible enough outfit so he decided not to complain. Lazily pulling on the top and stopping at his belly, Gaara noted how the fabric scratched pleasantly against his chest. The tiny pinpricks from the burlap grazed his mesh covered abdominal, causing his muscles to tense in that special way. The shirt had special threads sewn in fantastic designs around his midsection that wrapped around the right sleeve to his shoulder._

_The colors were rich, fanning out in all shades of red, yellow, and...orange._

_His mind suddenly clung to a faint image of yellow and orange calling out his name as regained consciousness from the final slumber of death. Pools of blue rained on him from above as the rumble of the Konoha nin's voice jolted him back from the other side. A slice of white caught his attention as he earnestly returned a small smile to his friend. Remembering how tanned arms were on his chest and face, Gaara felt a sensitive chill wrack his spine at the thought of his friend. It was then that he had first noticed the jolt in his nether regions._

_'What was that?' he thought, pausing for a minute as he gripped the fabric of the top near his heart. 'Why, toward thoughts of Naruto, did I feel- No, no time to think.'_

_He focused on dressing once more, loosening the grip on the thing and pulling it the rest of the way. But, he couldn't help noticing how the thread from the designs were smooth in comparison to the rigid nature of the shirt itself. That familiar weight set on his lids and they lowered involuntarily. But he was determined to dress without losing himself in sensations...and thoughts of sun-kissed shinobi. He quickly moved to the task of putting on his pants._

_The material was dense and cold to the touch when he picked them up from his bed. They must have been tailored to keep cool temperatures somehow. Opening them with the thumb and index finger on each hand and leaning down, Gaara carefully placed both of his long pale legs into the holes of the pants. Shivers racked his body as he stood slowly, dragging the material up his calves. _

_And then his thighs. _

_And finally to rest on the curve of slender hips. _

_They were tight at the top, but still suitable for movement and flexibility. Black fabric rested somewhat low on his hips, leaving a slight gap of toned flesh peaking between the hem of his shirt and the top of the pants._

_Another jolt._

_Gaara gazed down at himself, simply intend to check that everything was in its place before adding the final garments to his ensemble. It took him completely by surprise to see the fabric of his pants poking out in a slight bulge near his manhood before actually feeling it._

_'W-what's wrong with this thing?' he thought, staring down at his male anatomy with concern._

_It was only like this first thing in the morning when he first woke up and had to pee. Wherein lay the problem. It wasn't first thing in the morning and he didn't have to pee._

_So, why was the damn things so hard and throbbing?_

_He innocently placed his hand on the twitching organ, curious at the sensations. Even more curious on what it would feel like to touch. Had he been hot before, it was nothing compared to burning assault on his senses as his hand-made contact with the covered mass. He faintly recognized the feeling that washed over his body as arousal before his knees completely gave way.__As if someone had punched him in his gut, air rushed from Gaara's lungs with heated ferocity. He didn't even notice the sharp pain that should have followed the impact of his knees to the hard stone floor. A small sound accompanied the gust of wind, resembling one of those terrible sounds that Kankuro did when imitating the girls he'd had sex with. This one, though, was deep and sounded much like…_

_Himself? __That noise had come from him?_

_He felt that familiar blush creep up his neck with percision. Thank Kami above he'd been alone._

_Suddenly, breathing became laborious and Gaara found himself panting with the effort to acquire more oxygen. A gentle palm was frozen in place over his now protruding manhood, became wary of what another touch would reduce him to. The Kazekage knew he didn't have time to explore this revelation, despite his mind and body crying for otherwise. __He did, however, have the sense to connect this response that his body had with being aroused and vaguely wondered what how other parts of his body would react to the sensation of being touched._

_A perplexed Gaara willed himself up, remembering that diplomats for the Hidden Leaf would be at the gates of Suna literally any minute now. A few unsteady breaths later, Gaara felt the throbbing in his manhood subside, and gripped the study bedpost to pull his body up on shaky legs._

_He quickly threw on a red sash and a light cream, floor-length coat, before strapping on the gourd that his attendant had carefully placed by the rest of his attire. Slipping on his sandals, Gaara rose unsteady hands to form the hand symbols he needed manipulate his form to swiftly move with the sand and arrive at the gate almost instantaneously._

_Just as he arrived, ANBU quickly on guard behind him, the Konohanian entourage and their busty Hokage walked through the West gate. With all the diplomatic strength he could muster to counteract his body's insistent throbbing, he smiled and rose a trembling hand to greet the leaders of Konohagakure.'_

* * *

Recalling the events of the morning made the pressure that the squeeze of his knees caused_ unbearable_. Another shift in his chair coaxed the fabric of his cotton under garments to graze the head of his throbbing cock. With that, Gaara was suddenly thankful of all the years of stoicism and self-control. Had he been slightly less disciplined, the absurd sound would escape from the confines of a tightened throat like it had earlier in his bed chamber. He felt the blunt cut of his nails as they dug into the skin of his arm and latched to the cream fabric of his jacket, finding that anchoring himself gave a bit of release from the inferno of hell. Self discipline, however, could not stop the light pink flush from staining his pale cheeks. The redhead was sure that it was prominent against his almost paper white skin.

And in his current situation, a sexual utterance ruin him in more ways than one.

Tsunade was lividly arguing with one of the Suna elders about border regulations and such, mouth unceremoniously full of fried egg. Temari was writing down several points from the argument and sipping tea made with desert herbs, intending to make sense of what the two were quarreling about in the near future. Kankuro, that bastard, was napping indiscreetly in the corner of the room, third breakfast of the morning sitting sloppily on his desk. The other diplomats were considerately talking among themselves, occasionally looking over in surprise or concern at the Tsunade feud. The Kazekage, on the other hand, was participating as much as he could manage without making too much eye contact or raising his head.

Temari looked over at him with momentary concern before quickly returning to her scribe work. How he wished she would come over and find some way to cut the morning short.

A short, grey-haired woman with freckles on her face sitting next to Gaara attempted, several times, to discuss various details with him. He'd made the mistake of allowing her to scoot closer to him under the pretense of impaired hearing. The woman was almost shameless in her constant attempts to touch him or ask him arbitrary was obviously taken with the young Kazekage, much to said leader's dismay. It was in those awkward touches that Gaara distinguished the difference between a _wanted_ and _unwanted_ sensation. They heavy, stone-like feeling that set into his skin when she touched him was almost enough to quell his arousal.

For the fourth time that morning, she leaned toward his chair and began a monologue on how she'd had a lover who was a Suna shinobi when she was young. He'd been a diplomatic escort as well and she only got to see him one or two times a year. Something else about "passion under the desert moon" or something along those lines made Gaara cringe. Along with disgust, she brought on another emotion he was quite familiar with.

Annoyance.

He quickly nodded in passing with a small smile, making sure the old hag believed he was seriously listening.

In actuality, the ensnared Kazekage was barely aware as pale green eyes were fixed in front of him, to the figure sitting the chair by the door and the main source of his agonizing predicament. The non-diplomat was _supposed_ to be dutifully taking notes as an observer of the negotiations for future reference. He'd accompanied Lady Tsunade after unofficially being made her successor for the title of Hokage. That familiar mop of gold and painfully orange attire that had manifested in Gaara's erotic memory but an hour ago was sitting across the room from him.

Unknowingly torturing him with his presence.

Uzumaki Naruto.


	4. Realization

**a/n; Super horn Gaara is my fav I think. I like the seemingly uncontollable honest that his body displays. It will, for sure, provide for an excellent base for my lemon bars. Mhm**

**Read on my brutha/sista.**

_**Chapter 4; Realization**_

* * *

_'Gaara almost shook with the effort needed to keep a smile on his face while greeting each of the Konoha elders and diplomatic aides. Temari and Kankuro had arrived shortly after he did and were following suit in his welcoming introduction with practiced grace. None of the contacts that he'd had with any of their hands, had given him an erotic reaction, much to his pleasure. Not even the irresistable Tsunade and her other-worldly bosom tempted him to feel anything but respect. He stepped back momentarily to take a small count and observe his guests, making sure that he had enough rooms ready._

_Many of the elder's attendants were carrying large parasols, shading their masters from the harsh rays of the desert. However, after a quick glance among them, Gaara noted how well the group was dressed-in thin layers to-protect them from the harsh sunlight. Several of the elders were already shining with a thin layer of sweat and smiling as opposed to passing out. When diplomats usually came to Suna, they were all sweating profusely and dressed in clothing that would ensure their skin to burn. They'd obviously done some thorough research on the practices of dress and survival of temperatures in the deserts of the Hidden Sand. Impressed by their awareness, Gaara looked to Tsunade and complimented her on her consideration._

_"It seems that you were all skillfully prepared on how to survive the temperatures of the desert. It flatters us that you took the time to research our customs, Hokage-sama."_

_"I would accept your thanks, Kazekage-sama, but I'm not the one who prepped us for this trip. The elders and I are merely in benefit of his diligence to making this trip as comfortable as possible for us Leaf shinobi." she smiled brightly and turned to continue the conversation she'd been having with Temari and Kankuro._

_Gaara felt his brow crease momentarily in slight confusion._

_If not the Hokage, who went to the trouble of researching Suna customs?_

_Momentarily losing focus and looking beyond the pack of diplomats, dozens of large scrolls were being carried on the backs of a handful ANBU body guards. The Kazekage stared, perplexed, wondering why they'd brought so many summoning scrolls with them to a diplomatic meeting and why the security detail was so small. He decided that such matters could be discussed later and moved to shake the hands of the last two peace committee members._

_Upon shaking the last liver spotted hand, Gaara made the move to turn and lead the pack of Konoha representatives to the Kazekage mansion. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a flash of orange and yellow that stopped him in his tracks. Focusing his ears toward the back of the group, Gaara registered that all too familiar voice:_

_"Be careful with those scrolls, Baa-chan will be pissed if we screw up her luggage." It was a little deeper than he remembered and tempered with unknown authority, but nonetheless, Gaara noticed the rises and falls of that tender voice that had brought him back from the dead._

_Naruto_

_Trying his hardest not to seem childish, Gaara called out in the calmest voice he could manage to get his friend's attention and hoping that he hadn't imagined it._

_"Naruto?" almost instantly, s__aid male popped his head out between the shoulders of two elders and smiled with too-white teeth. His blonde hair had grown longer, covering his face slightly as whiskered cheeks rose to accommodate the girth of his grin._

_"Gaaaaraaa! Long time no see! Give me one second." and his head disappeared as Gaara stood stunned. His chest filled with so much happiness that he was sure it was going to burst. Since when had he felt so strongly about seeing Naruto?_

_The loud-mouth shinobi called out a few more instructions to the Leaf ANBU and then called some Sand ANBU from his guard detail over. He began giving them details of what Gaara assumed was the moving of the summoning scrolls and all the high-level shinobi were hanging on to his every word. His deep blue eyes were serious as he used his hands with grace to emphasize points he made. A stunned Gaara could only stand and observe the authoritative nature of his friend. Judging on what Tsunade ha siad, Naruto was probably the one who arranged for all of the diplomats to dress in appropriate attire. This having been the only second time that he'd seen Naruto in the past three years, he shouldn't have been surprised that much about the boy had changed._

_He'd gotten taller, probably a few inches shorter than him. His build seemed more sturdy, as Gaara ran curious eyes over his frame. His chest seemed broader and toned, framed by a deep forest green vest that fanned out and fell into a cloth vale, resting at the top of his ankles. He could see long arms bulge in the tight white material of Naruto's sleeve. Deep brown pants housed long, lean legs; disciplined from years of intensive training with the Sage. His beautiful skin was the same tan that it always was under the weight of the hideously orange outer robes. The slightly younger teen had kept his boyish face with a few changes; his nose seemed straighter and jaw more prominent. His golden locks fell slightly below his shoulders, and his bangs framed his tanned face in a spiky halo. Gaara noticed that his shinobi headplate was black now, and tied around his waist like a belt instead of on his forehead. _

_'Diplomatic attire.' he thought curiously._

_Gaara couldn't help the involuntary intake of breath as the blond stretched his arms up and revealed the 'V' shaped muscles on his hip. He immediately felt the sensations denoting arousal take over his mind as he took in the sight of his blonde haired friend. The same-no-more than he'd felt at the thought of him earlier that morning. His unsure words came to him:_

"How will I know that the person arouses me?"

"Trust me, little brother, you'll just know."

_It had taken all but thirty seconds for Gaara to realize how right his brother was. Simply looking at Naruto had his blood boiling almost painfully. His stomach stirred and his pulse quickened. His flesh grew hard once again, against the fabric of his trousers. Cautiously, he closed and buttoned up the buttons of his open coat in an attempt to conceal his accelerating condition from the group of allied leaders, eyes still locked on Naruto. The blonde was done giving orders to the ANBU and was making his way over to the unnaturally still Kazekage, smile dawning his plump pink lips._

_Gaara did the best he could to smile back as he felt Naruto's proximity to him. He was close enough, when he finally stopped, for Gaara to inhale the musk of his scent. He smelled like citrus and sweat. And before Gaara could composed himself, he growled under his breath at the smell. Naruto tilted his head to the side in curiosity, revealing the expanse of his tan neck, as a flustered Gaara caught himself. A light pink blush settled on his cheeks as he apologized to Naruto with a hasty excuse._

_"S-sorry. My throat is really dry." Bullshit._

_"I'd imagine. It's hot as hell out here. We'd better get inside before the elders pass out from heat stroke." The blonde commented with a smirk._

_"I agree." Gaara almost tripped attempting to turn, catching himself and dusting off his coat as Naruto laughed behind him. The sound of it sunk deep into his skin, fanning out like one thousand fingers dancing across his body. Again, Gaara was struck with the urge to explore these sensations. Specifically, how Naruto elicited them from him. And how he could make Naruto feel those same sensations. His curiosity peaked as Naruto commented behind him._

_"You forgot something, Kazekage-sama." ignoring how good it felt for Naruto to call him by his title, Gaara turned to see and outstretched tan hand and a tight lipped smile. Said Kage looked up to his friend's moon shaped eyes and slowly held his hand out to grasp the other. He hesitated, wary of what this sudden contact would make him feel and act in front of his guests. He contemplated it for a minute, reluctant until he noticed the pack of Konoha diplomats move in formation past him and Naruto, led by an eager Temari toward the Kazekage mansion._

_Curiosity took over as Gaara decided to grasp Naruto's hand in a loose grip. The warmth of Naruto's palm was the first thing he noticed. His skin was soft and his grip genuine; their two hands seemed to fit together perfectly. Then, the taller shinobi squeezed, tightening his hold on the other's hand and Gaara felt the electricity fry every nerve in his brain. Moving the muscles in his arms became like swimming through tar as the sensation of their clasped hands become the center of his world. Gaara felt his eyes flutter closed, quickly drawing his bottom lip in between his teeth to stop the inevitable hiss that Naruto had pulled from his throat._

_The blonde, seemingly oblivious to how Gaara had reacted to the simple gesture, let go of his hand slowly and pushed past him, calling out with a joyfully competitive tone._

_"Come on, Kazekage-sama. I bet I can beat your ass back to the mansion!"_

_Said male stood immobile in front of Suna's West gate, trembling from head to toe.'_

He'd been unable to move from that spot for ten minutes. And when he finally could, he rushed back to the mansion and tried to explain how he had to deal with the concerns of some passing citizens and to excuse him for his negligence. The lot of them nodded and dismissed his apology. Naruto had been propped up on the wall beside the door, head down as Gaara moved to introduce everyone and present his gift of traditional Suna breakfast cuisine.

Had he looked a bit closer, he'd have seen the flush stained across tanned cheeks and the knowing smirk on the blonde's lips.

* * *

And so here they were.

Seemingly oblivious to his effect on Gaara and in spite of his assignment, Naruto's quizzical blue orbs were focused on the fruit that he'd unknowingly selected from the breakfast spread. Along with the assortment of dishes his cooks had prepared at a remarkable speed, they'd produced an impressive tray of fruits and jams. The eager Leaf ninja had approached the buffet with the intention to grab everything in sight, and had ended up with quite a few unexpected bits on his plate.

Example A being the vine of Sun fruit the blonde held in his curious hands now.

To any non-Suna resident, the vine of red fruit may have resembled large grapes, or small ripe tomatoes. The bulbs were plump, hanging heavily from a light green base. When bitten into, a pungent juice exploded in your mouth, contrasting nicely with the soft, sweet, flat bread smothered in desert honey. Being a native Konohainian, it was clear that the boy was both confused and enthralled at the same time.

Gaara almost chuckled at the irony of the situation. He found yet another thing in common. Only his perplextion was not about fruit, about a certain blonde fool. The redheaded shinobi sighed with abandon, unable to find a logical reason why Naruto was affecting him so strongly. Or even why it was Naruto that had incited these tremendous feelings in him.

_'"Trust me little brother, you'll just know."'_

Damn that Kankuro. He needed to get ahold of that bastard soon; he was going to beat the answers out of him this time.

Breaking him from his momentary rage, Gaara noticed that Naruto was palming the heavy globes of fruit with furrowed blond brow. His elegant fingers curled around the things, delicately handing them with unnecessary care as studied the foreign fruit. Using his thumb and index finger, the boy plucked the biggest fruit from the vine, carefully placing the rest back on his plate. Bringing it to his lips, the boy quickly poked a pink tongue out to test the skin of it, spouting a look of distaste. As the muscle returned to the blonde's mouth, Gaara's mind assaulted him with images of the thick appendage on the skin of his arm. Just then, the pearls of Naruto's teeth took a small bite from the flesh of the fruit as his eyes widened with unknown emotion.

'Gaara felt his eyes widen along with the blonde shinobi, gripping the edge of the desk and slightly crushing the few sheets of paper under his left palm. Swearing he saw those blue eyes flash to his momentarily, Gaara watched as Naruto wrapped his languid tongue around the rest of the fruit and drag it to his mouth. Those eyes rolled back in his head slightly as he savored the taste and quickly reached for another.

Another surge of arousal hit the tortured Kage with unprecedented force and he found himself thrusting his head down, eyes wide and unfocused as he completely crushed the notes he had taken from the meeting in his palm in an effort to calm himself. His hips bucked into the air, involuntarily causing his knees to hit the back of his desk with a dull "thump". A shaky breath escaped his lips and a lone bead of sweat found its way to his tongue as he licked his lower lip, imagining how it would feel for Naruto to lick it in his place.

Or for him lick Naruto's lips instead of his own.

_Fuck._

Gaara tried to regain some composure but found himself less and less tolerant of his current situation. It was making him extremely irritable on the inside and his patience was wearing thin. Being easily angered in a negotiation was not the best idea. In retrospect, being on the verge of _bursting_ with arousal at such talks were not so ideal either.

'I've got to try to force some sort of break.' he thought desperately, channeling his thoughts as hard as he could to his sister; who seemed to ignore him on purpose, despite seeing he was in some sort of predicament. She simply stood and sauntered over to the drink table, filling her cup with tea. Kankuro, despite being the bastard that he was, chose that exact moment to wake up and check on the status of his ailing little brother. He'd noticed that standstill moment with the Uzumaki kid by the gate earlier and took it upon himself to encourage Temari to move the rest of the group ahead, and give his little brother the chance to explore those new "sensations" the Konoha shinobi made him feel.

Now, looking to the center desk in the meeting room, he saw what a predicament he'd placed his brother in. Gaara was almost drooling while he _shamelessly _stared at his blonde counterpart across the room. His face was impossible flushed and the notes he'd been taking were crushed beyond salvation on the top of the desk. Some Leaf baa-chan was chewing his ear off with the impression that she was the cause of the Kazekage's blush. But Gaara was fixated on Uzumaki, who was eating some very tasty looking Sun fruit, _very _provocatively while stealing little glances at his almost panting brother. The yellow-haired bastard was a tease! And Gaara had no idea about what Uzumaki was doing!

Oh, could this get any better?

Kankuro stood stiffly, but dutiful. By his right as an older brother, it was his job to terrorize his little brother through his first sexual experience. It was his Kami-given right.

Kankuro stretched black-clad limbs above his head and began a slow stride to the Kazekage's desk, moving to antagonize his brother further.


End file.
